


Scenes From a Maria Stark Foundation Benefit

by Impreciselanguage



Series: July Prompts [6]
Category: Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Cap's Kooky Quartet, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 14:03:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4394690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impreciselanguage/pseuds/Impreciselanguage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barton picked at a plate of cheese. “D’you think we could convince Stark to throw a barbecue next time?”</p><p> </p><p>	Pietro barely heard the other man. He checked his watch. No time had passed since he’d last checked it. He groaned and checked his watch again. “How much more of this do we have to take?”</p><p> </p><p>	“It’s been ten minutes, Pete” Barton replied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Pietro and Clint Barton had found themselves at a Maria Stark Foundation Benefit party hosted by Tony Stark, in an opulent banquet hall, and not in any official capacity as Avengers, (though their presence was due to their status as Avengers), which they would both have been more comfortable with, but as Clint Barton and Pietro Maximoff. Clint’s borrowed suit didn’t quite fit his 6’3 frame. Pietro’s blue suit didn’t fit him either, but he had abandoned the most offending article of clothing – the jacket, and so now it wasn’t quite so obvious they were both wearing Steven Rogers’ two suits. Captain America had managed to get out of attending the party by assigning himself to a mission for S.H.I.E.L.D.. Even Pietro’s sister Wanda had abandoned him to go off to talk to Janet Van Dyne about a costume redesign. It had been Ms. Van Dyne’s idea, but Wanda had still accepted the offer eagerly.

Barton picked at a plate of cheese. “D’you think we could convince Stark to throw a barbecue next time?”

Pietro barely heard the other man. He checked his watch. No time had passed since he’d last checked it. He groaned and checked his watch again. “How much more of this do we have to take?”

“It’s been ten minutes, Pete” Barton replied. “At least the girls are cute.”

Pietro raised an eyebrow at the other man, his mouth dangerously close to a frown. “Which ‘girls’ are you talking about?”

“All of them?” Barton set the cheese down. “Her, over there by that guy and the giraffe thing. And the blonde in the white . . . Janet and Wanda, of course . . .”

“Do you know what my sister would do to you if she knew you’d referred to her as a ‘girl’?”

“Er, yeah I guess I do.” Barton turned his attention back to the cheese. “Do me a favor? Don’t mention it. To your sis or Jan.”

“I’ll consider it.” Pietro began to tap his toe. “Not that I like keeping secrets from my sister, but it wouldn’t look good for the Foundation if the Avengers began brawling amongst themselves during Stark’s party.”

Clint smacked him on the back. “You’re a good pal, Silver.” 

Pietro checked his watch again, and sighed again. This party was never going to end.


	2. Chapter 2

Wanda followed the other woman into a quiet corner of the Banquet Hall. “Us lady-Avengers need to stick together,” Janet was saying, “and get to know each other. And honestly, there’s only so much flirting you can do until you just have to ask yourself, what’s the point?”

“I . . . . suppose?”

“Besides, Hank finally got the point, bless his heart. Even if he has wandered off somewhere with Tony and Reed to argue about Artificial Intelligence.”

Wanda smiled. She really didn’t know any of the early Avengers well, and she was glad Janet had made the first overture. “You love him?”

Janet smiled back to her. “I do. I really do love the big dork.” Janet sat down on a sofa surrounded by large potted plants, and pulled a small leather-bound sketchbook out of the purse that matched her black and gold dress. She patted the seat next to her. “Sit down, Wanda. I don’t bite.” As Wanda sat next to the other woman, Janet grinned. “And I only sting if you deserve it.”

“Then I won’t hex you, if you won’t sting me.” Wanda smiled, smoothing her skirt. She had gotten more control of her hexes, of late. “How long have you had the stings?”

“Two years now,” Janet said absently, opening the sketchbook, and flipping through it. “I have to admit, I started sketching some ideas for your costume as soon as you were confirmed as an Avenger. I know that a red shade is kind of crucial to the whole ‘Scarlet Witch’ thing but how do you feel about red accents on a different shade . . . Hmmm.” The other woman studied her face. “Ok I’m just a little jealous of your hair - the natural curls. Do you know how much money I have to pay the stylist to get that look?”

“Ummm. Thank you? I think.” Wanda glanced at some of the sketches. “I think I want more . . .” she waved her hand over her chest. “Cover than that.”

Janet nodded. “You’re sure? If I had a body like that, I’d show it off but what do I know? I spend most of my time super-heroing this small.” She held her fingers up to demonstrate how small before turning back to her sketching. “I can raise the neckline, attach a cape like this . . . you’ll still be gorgeous.”

Wanda was silent for a moment, watching the other woman work. She wished she could draw. There were evenings when it was quiet in the Mansion, when Captain Rogers would sketch, and Wanda would watch him. He was a good artist. Janet, Wanda thought, was good as well, but her style was different. “I’m sorry,” Wanda said.

“Whatever for?”

“Because I don’t know how to have . . . how to talk with another woman.” Wanda smiled, but it was a sad smile. “I can’t say how long it’s been. Since my mother died. I was . . . thirteen? My friend Tsura and I were just starting to notice the boys. She had a crush on Pietro, and I liked . . . not that it matters. She’s not my friend any longer, and neither is he.”

“What happened?”

“They found out we were mutants, Pietro and I. That is what happened. So they killed our mother and father.” There was a hardness in those words. Everything she had learned from Magneto, everything she was trying to unlearn, ran through her mind and the very core of her being in that moment. She had been happy. They had been *children*, and her parents had never done anything but taken care of them. Wanda bit her lip, staring down at the carpet, tracing the geometric design with her eyes.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing,” Janet said. “My father was killed recently. It was terrible. But he was killed by some alien. A creature from another world. I can’t imagine how it would feel if it had been someone I knew.”

Now it was Janet who was crying, instead of Wanda. A teardrop splattered on the sketch, and Janet quickly put the sketchbook away. After a moment, Wanda placed her hand on the other woman’s arm. “I’m sorry about your father.”

Jan sniffed and rubbed her eyes with a handkerchief, giving Wanda a wan smile. “Why don’t we go see what trouble the boys are getting into?”

“Why not?” Wanda stood, turning back to the other woman as Janet stood. “And Janet? I hope you and Dr. Pym come back to the Avengers soon. It would be nice to have a friend.”

Janet beamed, putting her arm through Wanda’s as they went to rejoin the party. “I’ll see what I can do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Prompt: Day 2: something lost, something found, and an alien.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Tony would rather be doing was anything else. Cruising in his new Audi A4 convertible through the California hills (the fact he was in New York at the moment was a minor inconvenience), or returning to the conversation he *had* been having with Hank Pym and Reed Richards about adapting existing technologies into artificial intelligence systems. Tinkering with the Iron Man design – actually, Pepper had to bring his attention back to the discussion with a quick kick to his ankle, as he was mentally drafting modifications to give the armor better aerodynamics. and hadn’t heard a single thing Emmanuel da Costa had said.  
> \--  
> Basically 616 with MCU influences, especially regarding Tony and Pep's characterization, though they are in their 20s here.

What Tony would rather be doing was anything else. Cruising in his new Audi A4 convertible through the California hills (the fact he was in New York at the moment was a minor inconvenience), or returning to the conversation he *had* been having with Hank Pym and Reed Richards about adapting existing technologies into artificial intelligence systems. Tinkering with the Iron Man design – actually, Pepper had to bring his attention back to the discussion with a quick kick to his ankle, as he was mentally drafting modifications to give the armor better aerodynamics. and hadn’t heard a single thing Emmanuel da Costa had said.

Tony shook his head slightly and gave the middle-aged man a wry smile. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

da Costa narrowed his eyes. “Do you have a problem, Mr. Stark?.” Emmanuel da Costa had a reputation for being the sort of cut-throat, take-no-prisoners, shrewd businessman that gave Tony a headache. Why did they have to try so hard?

“No problem, Mr. da Costa, I just didn’t hear the question.” Tony smiled – the smile that certain types of women found James Bond-level charming (and certain types of men, as well) – and drove everyone else up the wall. He somehow doubted that da Costa was the type of man who’d be charmed.

“Is this a joke, Stark? I didn’t fly all the way to New York City to be insulted by some entitled brat half my age.”

Yeah, this was definitely *not* what Tony wanted to be doing. He had never wanted to meet with da Costa in the first place. On one of the rare occasions Tony and his father had a real conversation, remembered through a haze of martinis, Howard had warned his son against losing the company to men exactly like Emmanuel da Costa. Sure, opening a Stark Factory in Brazil didn’t seem like a bad idea on the surface of it, but . . .

“Tony,” Pepper murmured pointedly. “Mr. da Costa wanted to know what the benefits of contributing to the Maria Stark Foundation.”

“That’s not exactly how I phrased it, young woman. What I did say was, why should I?”

Well, Tony had to give him points there – da Costa might have been dismissive of Pepper, but at least he hadn’t called her anything completely offensive. “I’d think that would be perfectly obvious.” Tony gestured around to the party going on around them. “All of-”

“A waste of capital,” da Costa interrupted. “Extravagance. All of this money should be reinvested into your company.”

“As I was saying,” Tony said, doing his best not to speak through clenched teeth (Pep, by his side, was livid. She, at least, was intelligent enough to be circumspect.) “All of these people believe in what the Foundation is doing, or benefit directly. You’re welcome to ask any of them why they think funding medical clinics, scientific research, homeless shelters, or educational programs are worth the minor expense.”

Tony looked around – if he could grab Dr. Blake or Dr. Foster, or anyone else to foist da Costa on to, to demonstrate the Foundation’s true value – but all he saw were the vapid guests who were more concerned with the society of the party than the charity itself, and Pepper giving him a look which clearly said he needed to be careful.

da Costa smirked. “I was under the impression the majority of the money goes to funding this little pet project of yours. This team of super-powered vigilantes. What are they called . . . The Avengers.”

Tony nearly winced. While it wasn’t public knowledge that Tony was himself a founding member of the Avengers as the armored Iron Man, he suspected that sooner or later, some shrewd villain or journalist (which was more or less the same thing) would put two and two together – playing at the billionaire playboy only went so far. Besides, he wasn’t going to let this arrogant s.o.b. insult his team, no matter whether he was currently an active member or not. “The Avengers are a government sanctioned team of super-powered individuals, Mr. da Costa,” Tony replied. “And every one of them is worth ten of you.” He hadn’t meant to say that last part, but he meant it. It was a minor point that the team had formed *before* the government pseudo-approval. It helped to have friends in high places, but from the expression in da Costa’s face, they *weren’t* going to be going into business together.

Emmanuel da Costa threw his drink – gin and tonic – in Tony’s face. “My son, thirteen-years-old, has better manners than you, you - - -” Tony knew very little Portuguese, but he knew enough that this was *not* complimentary. “Good day, Mr. Stark.” The other man turned and stalked away, like some kind of jungle cat. Tony made a wry face at Pepper, who was frowning, her fair skin flushed and her eyes glittering.

“We wouldn’t have wanted to do business with him anyway, Pep,” Tony said. “He was an asshole.”

She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of smiling. “Well, you know what they always say,” Pepper said, turning and walking away again. Tony didn’t try to stop her, but he wasn’t worried about it. She hadn’t wanted to do business with da Costa either. He licked the gin from his lips, and went looking for a towel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 4: "A business meeting gone wrong."

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1: Two guys. A party where time (seems?) to stop. Bonus: Add a giraffe.


End file.
